Wind,
As Icy as Her heart,
Burns through each vein as I inhale,
Exhale.
Her departure was like,
Being excommunicated by the Only One I’ve had faith in,
With exoneration as far as a horizon I glare towards,
Keeping distance with every step taken forward…
Moments like these,
I ask myself,
Why not die and wipe the slate clean?
Reborn with a touch not knowing how Hers felt.
A sense of smell unable to recall the scent of a garden we’ve grown together gone smokey,
No matter how vivid the memory?
Ears deaf to the tunes of her silence.
Two eyes with a vision for my dreams,
As she morphs into a nightmare I cannot bear…
Tastebuds salivating for what is not an imitation of the real thing,
Rather than those crabs in buckets she tends to break apart,
Whenever she’s hungry for more…
m3l0dicverse 
Leave a comment